


it was a dark and stormy night

by Authoress



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, First Kiss, M/M, sensory descriptions and lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 01:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7957588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authoress/pseuds/Authoress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You always were the leader,” Kuroo says. </p><p>“I couldn’t do it without a guide, though,” Bokuto says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it was a dark and stormy night

**Author's Note:**

> [A song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtwAtVvuJkU)

 

The rain starts when he’s toweling off, trying to scramble his mess of hair into something that looks reasonable. It only dries straight up—Kuroo knows that of course but this nightly struggle is a bit of a ritual by now. He brushes the towel over his hair and steps from the steam of the bath only to be greeted by the steady rush of water over the roof of their guesthouse.

 _Huh,_ Kuroo thinks. _Well, I always did sleep better with rain._

He pads barefoot onto the veranda and reaches a hand out. Water from the gutter trickles onto his skin in a steady stream, falling drops scattering across the tips of his fingers. The sensation is pleasant and cool against bath-warmed fingers, but unpleasant when he pulls his hand back. Kuroo shakes off the water.

Down to his left, Taketora’s voice is raised above the acceptable level of volume for guests, which also happens to be above the acceptable level of volume in most places. Kuroo clicks his tongue, but Kai—wonderful, merciful Kai—beats him to it. Kuroo hears the low rumble of his voice and then a sullen (but quieter) response from Taketora. Kuroo suspects bathing suit magazines or volleyball player interviews as the cause of the ruckus. A pair of Fukurodani players pass by Kuroo. He doesn’t know their names as they’re not regulars, but he returns their respectful nod.

Where was Bokuto?

It wasn’t like they always shared a cup of tea together after their baths during training camps, but, well. They always did. And in a rain like this, a warm cup of tea would mix splendidly with good company.

Kuroo has a memory, then, of two boys running through the streets. They’re soaked to the bone, all toothy smiles and laughs as the storm rages. From the windows of the warm dry houses, neighboring parents keep a watchful eye on the dripping boys, but the boys never notice. They’re in their own world, two adventurers who can go anywhere and be anything they want in this rain. They are the only people on earth, the only people with enough courage to brave the elements.

Kuroo remembers what Bokuto looked like then, brown hair black and flattened but his eyes shining brighter than ever. He was missing a tooth then, one of his front four. Kuroo, with all his baby teeth intact, was unbearably jealous. But in that moment, with fearless eyes and a gap-toothed smile, Kuroo thinks he would have believed anything Bokuto said, done anything he asked.

“Well, Tetsu?” Bokuto had asked. “Where to now?”

The park, Tokyo city, China, even America wasn’t impossible for them. They could be anything and go anywhere. They could ride dragons and wake mystical spirits, or sail away on a boat and never return. They could reel in the energy of the storm and make it their own.

“Everywhere,” Kuroo had said. “Let’s go everywhere together, Kou.”

In the end, they ran up and down the street and rolled on the sidewalks and splashed in puddles until they were cold, then went to Bokuto's house and took a bath while the storm blew over. Bokuto's mother wrapped them in fluffy towels and fed them soup while they pressed shoulder to shoulder for warmth. When Kuroo left that night, the rain had gone and taken with it the magic of that day. But the memory stuck with Kuroo, even ten years later. It’s not easy to forget the moment you really and truly fall in love with somebody.

“Kuro, you’re spacing out,” Kenma says.

Kuroo thinks about telling Kenma about the memory, but he already knows what he’ll say. ‘You and Bokuto have always been idiots, from the day you were born,’ or maybe ‘Of course you’re in love with him, who else could it be.’ Kenma’s nice like that. Kuroo loves his straightforwardness and analytical skill.

“I fell in love on a day like this,” Kuroo says.

Kenma regards him with a slow blink. “Bokuto is around the back, staring out into space like you,” he says.

“Aha,” Kuroo says, laughing and pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Am I really so obvious?”

“You two just look lonely on your own,” Kenma says, looking back down at his phone. “If you’re going to be lonely, isn’t it better to do it together?”

“Not if your feelings aren’t returned,” Kuroo says.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Kenma says.

Kuroo smiles. “I like this side of you.”

He drapes the towel over his shoulder and runs a hand through the damp strands. Ah, they were already starting to dry askew. No helping it, then. Kuroo turns and makes his way past Kenma to the back of the guesthouse.

“Kuro,” Kenma calls. Kuroo turns.

“You’re not a very serious guy,” Kenma says. “You crack too many jokes and laugh too hard. You’re a provocateur and insufferable to play against.” Kenma tilts his head to the side. “I like you a lot, as a captain and a friend. But it’s nice to see the genuine side of you once in a while.”

Kuroo laughs.

He finds Bokuto sitting on the back steps, feet getting wet while he stares out into the rain and the patch of forest beyond. His face is neutral and calm, a far cry from his abundance of facial expressions on the court. It’s a nice look on him, makes him look his age. Kuroo feels like calling him Koutarou again, which is precisely why he doesn’t.

“Bokuto,” Kuroo says, “your team is missing you.”

“Tetsu,” Bokuto says, looking up at him. “Did you know during storms is the time I feel the calmest?”

Kuroo blinks. He doesn’t reply for a moment, holding the friendliest of staring contests with Bokuto. The he takes a breath and offers a smile he knows Bokuto will see right through. “You haven’t called me by that name in years,” he says.

“Haven’t I?” Bokuto says, blinking. He tilts his head to the side and presses his lips together. “Hmm.”

“Well, we aren’t eight anymore,” Kuroo says. “It was time for little boys to grow up.”

Bokuto shrugs one shoulder and pats the space beside him. Kuroo settles down next to him obediently. Their legs are long and hairy and it takes some finagling to get them just out of the rain, water vapor misting on each hair. Kuroo bumps Bokuto's knee with his. In the distance, low light flickers on and off, accompanied by a rumbling purr. It feels significant.

“Sorry,” Kuroo says. It feels like the wrong thing to say.

Bokuto rests his chin on his knees and wraps his arms around his legs. A droplet splatters onto his nose and his face crinkles. Kuroo thinks about running his fingers down the wrinkles in Bokuto's skin, thinks of flattening them and reshaping them until he has the crinkle of Bokuto's eyes when he smiles and the dimples in his cheeks when he laughs. This, too, feels significant, but Kuroo already knew that.

“You’re really calm, huh?” Kuroo says. “That’s a welcome change.”

“Akaashi doesn’t like it,” Bokuto says. “I stay up too late watching the storm and he gets all worried about me losing sleep.”

“If anyone could do with a little less energy, it’s you,” Kuroo says.

Bokuto pouts. “That’s what Konoha said, too.”

“Maybe he has a point,” Kuroo says, nudging Bokuto's shoulder with his own.

_Ah, Kuroo, provocateur extraordinaire._ Kuroo’s thoughts sound an awful lot like Kenma. _You’ll push and push until he gives you a clear boundary. How much is too much? How close is too close? How—_

_That’s enough,_ Kuroo thinks back. _Self-deprecation never got us anywhere, did it?_

“Akaashi knows what’s best for me, probably.” Bokuto mutters the last part. “He always has to look out for me. I should get him something, a gift of some kind, for his troubles.”

“Nah,” Kuroo says. “He wouldn’t know what to do if his precious chick grew up.”

“You’re supposed to treasure your best friends, though, right?” Bokuto says. “Else you lose ‘em.”

Kuroo smiles until his face hurts. “Some you’re just stuck with. They’ll never leave, even against their better judgement.”

“Tetsu,” Bokuto says.

“That’s the second time you’ve called me by that name,” Kuroo says, smiling at his fingers, wrapped around his legs, mirroring Bokuto without even realizing. “Aren’t we a little old for that now?”

“Tetsu,” Bokuto says again, and this time, his cold fingers brush Kuroo’s cheek.

Kuroo flinches, turning towards Bokuto and right into his kiss. His lips are gentle, softer than expected. The brush of his day-old stubble is rough but not entirely unwelcome. He feels like Bokuto is supposed to feel: rough around the edges but soft where it matters. 

Bokuto doesn’t pull away from Kuroo, letting their breaths mingle and their foreheads touch, and that feels significant, too.

“Tetsu, it’s okay,” Bokuto says. 

Kuroo doesn’t know what he’s talking about until he realizes his eyes are squeezed shut. He’s afraid to open them.

“You can open them,” Bokuto says.

“I can’t,” Kuroo says. “If I open my eyes and this is real, everything changes.”

“Yes,” Bokuto says. “It will.”

“I can’t,” Kuroo repeats. 

“Is it really so bad?” Bokuto says. “Change is first-years signing up for club. Change is passing on the helm of captain. Change is going to college. Change is growing up, into something bigger and better than what you were before.”

Kuroo hadn’t realized how tightly he had clung to their eight-year-old selves, running around in the rain. Bokuto was his childhood friend. His first love. He was immovable and irreplaceable in Kuroo’s life, but somewhere along the way, he had changed.

“Your feelings for me changed,” Bokuto says. “That’s okay; it took me longer, but my feelings for you changed as well.”

Kuroo opens his eyes to gold. 

His smile feels shaky, but it’s the realest smile he’s ever worn. He shakes his head. “They never changed,” Kuroo says. “They just grew with us.”

“Then there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore,” Bokuto says.

“You always were the leader,” Kuroo says. 

“I couldn’t do it without a guide, though,” Bokuto says.

“I suppose,” Kuroo says, and he kisses Bokuto again.


End file.
